Withering into the futur
by apfelmarmelade
Summary: Just a little something from Aya/Rans pov between his parents death and him becoming on of Persias men. It's more a gathering of thoughts than a proper story with plot but it's pretty short so it won't take much of your time to read and perhaps review   -


Waii, my first fanfiction on f !

And my first one published in English, too! (Yes, you've guessed right, English isn't my mother-tongue .)

It's just a little ficlet, but there are more where that came from! xDD

Also,if there's by any chance a bored beta-reader out there...I need you!

So, here follows the boring _disclaimer:_

Neither Weiss Kreuz nor Aya or Kritiker or Ran are mine. I don't own them, so I can't sell them to you, I'm sorry...not that I would do that o.O

I don't get any profit from writing this story and just the idea is mine even though I'm sure somebody else already wrote something like this..bear with me.

_Second Disclaimer:_

I don't own the English language. Any mistakes concerning spelling or gramma are intended! They are ART GUYS!

Just kidding.

* * *

He hadn't pictured it like that.

Back then, when his sister was hospitalized, he had searched for something to do. For a goal in his life to not go insane watching his sister wither away in her white bed while he sat beside her and did nothing.

He also needed money, a little bit for him to survive, but that wouldn't be the problem. The problems were the immense mountains of bills from the hospital that seemed to increase everyday.

He hadn't even finished high school yet, so a well paying job wasn't something he could count on. It would take too long for him to work his way up, even if he did manage to get a decent job-offer.

He was afraid that he wouldn't be fast enough, that he would be too late and the hospital would shut down the life-maintenance system of his sister just because he couldn't pay up his dept fast enough. So he searched for other means.

That was when Persia first approached him. They offered him money. Enough money to satisfy all his needs. But he didn't like the job description.

He didn't know if he would be able to gather enough willpower to do what was asked of him. Even if it wasn't the killing itself, but just the thought of aiding that repulsed him.

Back then he still lived in some kind of haze. He was numb, couldn't get up enough motivation or offer many feelings besides the worry for his sister.

But as he slowly started to grasp the situation, that his sister was comatose, that she more than likely would never wake up, at least not without serious damage to her brain, physics and psyche, he got angry.

Angry at himself, at the world and at god for not preventing this and at the culprit. He searched for a way to went his anger, his frustration.

He wanted something that granted him relief.

And when Kritiker approached him again, he accepted gladly.

After all, he thought, how bad could it be, to kill someone?

When his sister was nearly killed so easily?

And besides, it was his right, wasn't it? He was the righteous one. He deserved revenge for his sister and his family – even though, if he would be honest to himself, he would surely see that it was more for himself than for anybody else.

Other people, innocent people, deserved to life their life to the fullest without any bad guy overshadowing theirs. And he could prevent that.

But still, he hadn't pictured his life as a murderer like that.

He had thought that the first one would be the worst and that it would get better and easier after that.

He had been wrong.

He had thought that he would be able to life his life like he had a normal job, that he would be able to severe his life as a murderer from his daily life.

Again, wrong thought.

He had dreamed that he would get relief, that his angry feelings that he abhorred would get washed out while he did the right thing.

He had dreamed that he would be the clean boy from before, without any bad thoughts towards anyone, just like your average friendly neighborhood boy, perhaps a little bit more sad.

But he got red, tormenting nightmares instead which even managed to seep into his mind when he was awake.

He had imagined that his believes would be enough to make the killing less evil. Because he fought for the week and innocent, he wasn't evil.

But, in his heart, he had known from the beginning that he was reducing himself to that level.

That now, everybody else also had the right to hunt him down. Because he himself had become evil.

And not even the belief that he was doing that for his sister or for the greater good could save him anymore.

* * *

You've reached the end, please proceed towards the cute yellow little bubble with the blue text reading "Review this chapter".

Thank you.


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